


The Skeleton Prompts Stories

by AngeliaDark



Series: The Skeleton Promps [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Fontcest, chapters are based on prompts, everything in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The collection of prompts sent into me by commenters on The Skeleton Prompts Requests (click backward to submit your own!).  It will feature anything from family to fontcest, both fluff and violence, so in front of the chapter titles I'll be putting a rating in parentheses in case you want to skip it, so I wont have to keep updating the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (G) Underswap AU--Childhood Keepsake

Okay, first chapter of this goes to my girlfriend who requested:  **_Okay, US AU, and something to do with a childhood keepsake. Go nuts._**   So here we go!

* * *

 

 

It was a rare thing when Papyrus decided to tidy up around the house himself, but he supposed he had nothing better to do.

There was a blizzard outside, and so Captain Alphys shut down the sentry stations to anyone except the cold-thriving Monsters.  He doubted any human worth their salt would be trekking around in this mess, but he wasn't going to complain.  It was bad enough Sans almost informed her that Skeletons cant really be affected by the cold, but he picked his smaller older brother up like a football under his arm and booked it for his house.

After putting cocoa with extra large marshmallows in front of Sans and promising to watch Napstaton on TV, any complaint was out the window.  It seemed Sans was due for an off day anyway because two cups of cocoa and three hours into NTTV, he was out like a light and leaving Papyrus to do his own thing.  With literally nothing better to do (he wasn't about to brave a storm for Muffet's or his weed dealer), he began tidying up the house.

Gods, they were behind on laundry, he thought as he filled up the basket and put it aside for later and began the (minor) task of cleaning up Sans's room.  It would be NOTHING compared to his own pigsty, but Sans DID occasionally shove things into his closet and forget about them for a long time, and Papyrus figured that after Sans stepped on...well, SOMETHING the last time he was in Papyrus's room, Papyrus owed him a favor.

He opened the closet and lo and behold, there was a stash of untidiness.  Papyrus began taking things out and sorting them--it was easy to guess which clothes were dirty and which ones were clean but hastily tossed in so Sans could make it to Guard training--and paused when he came across an old shoe box.

THAT was odd; most shoes here were either custom made or pilfered from the garbage dump, so there was no reason for there to be an actual shoe box, unless it was just for storage.  His hand was on the lid before it occurred to him that this could be something private, and it gave him a moment's pause.  Sans was not the type to keep secrets or keep anything private outside of anything he did in the bathroom.  It was probably something weird like a pretty flower or Pet Rock's girlfriend or something.  Papyrus snorted to himself at that last thought, quietly opening the lid.

Inside was a half-wrapped, half-folded mass of blue cloth that struck Papyrus as familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.  He frowned contemplatively, tracing his phalanges over the cloth, feeling it to be thick and soft, surely to be warm.  Curiosity thoroughly piqued, he tucked his hand into the box and took it out, the cloth unfurling itself in his hold.  It was a beautiful shade of blue, a bit frayed on the edges, and it looked as though a section near the bottom had been cut from it.  Other than that, it was a solid color, and looked to be nothing special. 

Papyrus ran his thumbs over it, bringing it closer to inspect, getting a little niggling sensation in his soul just from holding it.  Was was so special about this cloth that Sans felt the need to keep it tucked away here like this?  Even if it WAS soft and warm and smelled like...

He paused, bringing it closer and nestling his nasal bone into it, taking in a fresh, citrus scent that pulled him back in time before he even knew what a scent WAS, but something he could remember by some deeply-repressed instinct...of light, laughter, and warm embraces...

A dampness in his eye sockets snapped him out of his blind trip down memory lane, suddenly thinking that this was a bad idea and moving to fold it back up, pausing when something caught his eyelight.  At the bottom of the box was something else he'd missed, a photograph.  He reached in and took it out, feeling a choke in his nonexistent throat when he looked it over.

In the picture was Sans as a seven-year-old, blue eyelights sparkling brightly and beaming with a missing tooth for the picture as he held a bundle in his arms.  The bundle was swaddled in a blue cloth and nestled a baby Skeleton inside.  Papyrus stared at the photo, deftly turning it over and saw writing jotted down in Hands.

**_SANS MEETS HIS BABY BROTHER FOR THE FIRST TIME_ **

Papyrus turned the photo back over, looking it over carefully before turning his gaze to the blue cloth in his other hand, now seeing the connection between the two objects and couldn't help but hold both to his chest and let his soul flutter with fondness.  He always knew his brother loved him, but things like this were always welcomed reminders. 

He put the photo back into the box and carefully folded up the blanket and settled it on top of the photo before putting the lid back on and sliding it back into the corner of the closet.  As much as he adored the sentiment, he knew that maybe Sans did like keeping those little things to himself.

After finishing his tidy-up and carrying the now overloaded laundry basket down the stairs, Papyrus made a stop in the living room to take the empty cocoa mug to the kitchen, pausing when he noticed--for the first time, really--how fresh and citrusy Sans's blue scarf smelled.

 

 

 


	2. (T) Underlust--Papyton

This one is prompted by LeoNita, who wanted: " **Underlust Papyton! Because my heart can't take the feels and I know you'll make something beautiful!"**.  Well too bad, you're gonna get feels!

* * *

 

 

Beginning a relationship was...trying, to say the least. 

They were very, very different Monsters, both in form and in lifestyle.  Papyrus was a very sexual creature, albeit a very sweet one, but it was an addiction to him by this point, craving physical intimacy.  His dream of getting into the Royal Harem seemed to never fade, however, and that dream that began with such romanticized and high hopes had devolved into something perverted and soul-crushing.  All of the 'training' he put himself through had done seemingly irreparable damage on his soul and his habits, like he was in a constant heat no amount of sex could bring him out of.

And as much of an sex-repulsed asexual Mettaton was...it was hard. 

Even before he had his body, Mettaton never had the inclination for sex like the rest of his race had.  His cousins had been understanding at first, what with him being the youngest and all, but they eventually went on their merry ways to indulge in their own cravings, leaving Mettaton to focus his energy elsewhere.  He wanted to entertain, to act, to enthrall a crowd...and he wanted to do it fully-covered.  It took some decent begging of his best friend Alphys to get a body, even if it WAS a little more risque than he had wanted.

TOO risque. 

Even now, ages down the line, with Alphys, Papyrus, Napstablook, and even himself constantly reminding him that how he looked was no excuse for what those Monsters did to him...he knew that how he looked played a major factor in WHY those lowlifes did what they did, and he would have been more than happy to forego a body and his dreams for it to never happen again.  But his soul was irreparably damaged to the point where his original Ghost form wouldn't be able to sustain the damage done.  His body became his life support, and a prison that, despite Alphys's efforts, was still too attractive for his liking.

But he endured.  He powered through his shows with low attendance and viewer rating, and he endured the disgustingly suggestive 'fan' mail sent to him.  But he would have quit it all and dedicating his life to being a shut in...

...had it not been for his REAL number-one fan. 

His Prince.

His Papyrus.

The notoriously oversexualized flirt of the Underground was the one who had been his participating caller on his shows, who wrote such heartwarming and sincere letters, and Mettaton was so damn nervous about starting a relationship with someone like that, who had two VERY different sides to the same coin.

But getting to know Papyrus--REALLY getting to know him--he found someone just as damaged as he was.

It didn't show on the outside, with an awkwardly-modified body and a broken eye; instead it showed in the cracks of his soul, in the way he would cover his body when there was no one there to see it like he was the only one disgusted with his own form, in the shakes he would get when left without physical contact for too long, in the way when he would feel a fit of sexual energy coming on and put as much distance between himself and Mettaton as he could.

Gods, that last one hurt the most...especially since the one thing Mettaton DID enjoy was just simply BEING there with Papyrus.  Holding hands, linking arms, and even the occasional kiss were enough to fill his broken soul with a warm, loving glow that he could easily see himself being comfortable with forever.  But more than once, there was a kiss that lasted too long, hands that wandered against his own will, a throb of sexual energy out of nowhere, that would have Papyrus jerking away as though Mettaton was on fire and then flagellating himself to the point of self-abuse for it.

That was a third side that Mettaton saw.  A smaller, less-seen one that not even Sans could bring him out of--self-loathing.

It was like all the sexual aggression, repression, rejection, and EVERYTHING would pile on and then suddenly crash down in long increments of crying and screaming and self-abuse that often came out of nowhere, and left him barricaded in his home for several days.  Mettaton would have wanted nothing more than to be with Papyrus then, to comfort him and offer him his love...but Sans knew better. 

It took Sans several months for him to trust Mettaton, to LIKE him, even, but when Papyrus was close to having an episode, Sans would make sure Papyrus was safe, and that Mettaton was safe, and was the first to let Mettaton know when things were better.  But it didn't satisfy Mettaton; he wanted to KNOW. 

And the one to know was Undyne.

He caught his chance when visiting Alphys, and Undyne was there, and he showed all the backbone he could muster when he faced Undyne and told her that he wanted her help in understanding things about Papyrus that he didn't want him to know.  It seemed that he had found one of her softer points, because she sighed, looking more subdued than he could think possible, and began to explain.

Papyrus had the rotten luck of being one of the most sexually-gifted Monsters in the Underground while simultaneously having one of the gentlest of souls.  No amount of training could hide the fact that it didn't matter if he had the talent for Harem duty if his soul couldn't sustain it.  The guy knew how to fuck, better than even some of the best in the Harem, but his soul formed connections too easily, and with that came rejection, heartbreak, and damage that just piled on until it began to SHOW.

It made Mettaton think back to their first date, after those Monsters who had raped him had come back for seconds, how he stood up to them, came close to killing them, and had Papyrus tell him he was BETTER than that.  He recalled those hurtful things he had said, and began to see the damage his mere WORDS had caused to the gentle soul whose damage was already competing with his own.

Gods, if he hadn't snapped out of it...he was completely sure that he would have broken Papyrus's heart, and subsequently, Papyrus's soul, putting the final nail in the coffin every other Monster had built who had hurt Papyrus in some way.

He'd heard enough.  He thanked Alphys for the drinks and snacks, thanked Undyne for her understanding, and marched himself to Papyrus's house. 

Two knocks in, and Sans answered.  He demanded to see Papyrus, and stalked right in, ignoring Sans's frantic concerns as he made his way up to Papyrus's room, pausing in front of the door.

......gods above and below, he could FEEL the hurt, even from here.  It rattled the cracks in his soul, almost making it shake into two again as he reached for the doorknob, his body suddenly going stiff when a jolt of blue magic took hold.

"You're fucking insane!" Sans snapped, his eyelight having gone from purple to blue with the magic he was using.  "I've already TOLD you, Mettaton!  This is for HIS good, AND yours!  I'm trying to PROTECT you!"

Mettatin's hand shook hard as he clenched his eyes shut.  "....I don't care..." he replied, his voice shaking along with the rest of him.  "...he's HURTING, Sans...and I can't STAND it...not anymore..."  His hand shook harder before it lifted and grasped the door handle, his soul pulsing fuchsia as it threw off Sans's blue magic.  He heaved a dark sigh, glancing over at Sans with his broken eye, a glimmer of soul light gleaming in the dark socket.  "....he won't hurt me," he stated. 

Sans shook his head, looking desperate.  "Mettaton, he'll FUCK you," he stated in reply.  "He...gets so...fucking BAD when he's like this, Mettaton...."  He reached up and rubbed his chest as though his soul was pained.  "...it would kill him if he..."

"I know," Mettaton said.  "...but he won't."  He gave Sans a smile before turning the knob and walking into the room.

* * *

 

Sans hunched back in his own room, hugging his knees as he shot glances at the wall his room and Papyrus's shared, wishing for once that he DIDN'T have them soundproofed. 

He was such a fucking coward.  He'd let Mettaton into that room during one of Papyrus's manic fits, and didn't even have the guts to go in after, if anything to either stop what Papyrus might do or get Mettaton out.

....but Mettaton had sounded so SURE.....so CONFIDENT in Papyrus that he was sure nothing bad would happen...and he couldn't help but have a small glimmer.....the tiniest SHRED of hope that Mettaton could do what Sans couldn't. 

It had been hours now, and Sans's worry was outweighing his cowardice.  Papyrus wouldn't forgive him--he wouldn't forgive HIMSELF--if he let Mettaton get hurt.  He uncurled himself and crept out of his room, edging for Papyrus's door and letting his hand hover over the knob for a few moments before turning it and peeking in.

The room was a wreck--as it often was during Papyrus's fits--and the bed was stripped of any bedclothes, but it was not empty. 

Curled up on top of the mattress were Papyrus and Mettaton, holding each other tightly and protectively in such a way that Sans felt that nothing short of a meteor striking the Earth could do them harm as long as the other was there.  Papyrus looked so at ease, so comforted, with his soul glimmering brightly without even having summoned it that looked almost complete and whole.  Mettaton had his head tucked under Papyrus's mandible, a soft smile on his sleeping face as his own soul shone next to Papyrus's, the two soft pink balls of light sharing a misty, comforting aura that fed into one another like the embrace their physical forms were sharing.

Love.

Sans saw love.  The rarest thing in this sin den full of lust and pain.

His smile twitched slightly, feeling a tear drip down his cheekbone as he quietly shut the door, feeling the small crack in his own soul that was made by seeing his brother so damaged heal over just a little.


	3. (T) Underfell--Music Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Added a picture courtesy of everythingundertalemystuff on tumblr. Thank you SO much for it, you're the beeeeeeest! ;u;

This one sent in by undertalefruitsalad, who prompted    **"** **Okay soooo, we've already talked about it but I can't get off the topic with the instruments. Do you think it would be possible to maybe do some UF. You know when Papyrus struggles to explain his feelings to Sans and then instead serenades to him to show how much he cares? And mayyyybe just maybe Sans would get in on it and play along?"**   So Musicfell it is!

* * *

 

 

 Even in the darkest depths of despair in this wretched existence called life in the Underground, Monsters still found ways to retain the channelings of their magic in the traditional sense, back before the War, before everything went to Hell and back.  In every history class, in every home, it was taught that long ago, Monsters had proper channeling of magic by nature, but something was able to enhance that, to make it stronger, better, more controlled and precise.  And that was music.

Music created by the hand of the Monsters, that fed into their intents and thoughts and powered through their opponents...or cradled an infant as tenderly as its mother's soul to lull them to sleep.  It was precise, and it was natural.

Monsters hadn't always been kill-or-be-killed, hadn't always been cruel.  Monsters used their magic to create, to inspire, to entertain, to heal.  But then the War broke out, and everything burned.  The tools of healing and kindness that the Monsters had played were shattered, burned, crushed, and the Monsters themselves were driven back into the mountain so cruelly...and with time, it seemed their souls had suffered the same fate as their instruments.

The Monsters began rebuilding, utilizing their instruments to fight.  Duels broke out in the Underground and magic ran darkly amok, with little discipline or finesse.

It was disgusting.

Papyrus, Captain of the Royal Guard, grimaced with disgust as he watched a sloppy duel between two Dog Monsters who had apparently offended each other in some way, taking in the sour notes, the missed chords, the rotten keys, and almost put a stop to it just to spare himself the agony of having to listen to MORE of it.  Thankfully, mercifully, the smaller of the Dogs struck a sharp chord that pierced through the larger Dog and ended the duel.

He called the match, ordered a cleanup of the Dog's dust, and demanded that everyone return home before stalking to his house and slamming the door shut, rubbing his aching skull.  It was as much a curse as it was a blessing that he had perfect pitch when it came to being in the Royal Guard.  On the one hand, his perfect pitch assisted in honing his magic and skill down to an art form with precision that was envied by all; on the other, having to listen to OTHERS was synonymous with torture if they didn't have the finesse he had.

Papyrus waited until the ache in his skull went away before looking around the house, listening out for any sign of his brother.  There were none.  He checked the time and scowled to himself when he saw that it was after ten, and figured that Sans was still over at Grillby's, probably working his way into his third meal there.  MORE mustard and grease stains to get out of those clothes, he thought bitterly as he walked into the kitchen and began making something for himself to eat.

Grease stains were a real BITCH to get out.  And he just bought Sans two new shirts last week to replace the ones that were too stained or too ripped to be seen out in public!  It was INFURIATING how Sans so carelessly treated the things Papyrus gave him!  Leaving the room Papyrus let him have a mess, getting his clothes ripped and dirty, hardly eating the food Papyrus cooked....WHY did Papyrus even bother putting up with it?

Papyrus slapped down the spoon he was using to stir the pasta sauce onto the counter, his head lowered tiredly. 

.......it was because he loved Sans, of course.

Just...at some point in their lives, Papyrus began seeing his older brother as MORE than a brother.  His resentment of taking care of Sans began to be replaced with something more tender, a DESIRE to do so.  He would see the way Sans's eyelights lit up slightly when Papyrus gave him new clothes, cleaned up his room on a whim, or even did something as paltry as handing him the remote.  And when Sans was happy, Sans's behavior and work ethic improved.

He supposed it was residual need for big-brotherly affection, back when he could still remember them smile at each other and do things out of the kindness of their hearts.  Papyrus had always been somewhat of an attention-seeker, always looking for someone to acknowledge him and his accomplishments.  But the only acknowledgement that left a lasting print on him was Sans's.  And despite the fact that he was the Boss of the house, over time he began seeking out ways to make Sans...happier.  To make Sans WANT to come home.

..........but looking at the meal for two with only one in attendance, he hadn't been doing that good of a job.

Papyrus quietly dished out his spaghetti and sat at the table with a glass of wine, his fingers twitching against his own will as his magic began pulsing in his soul, almost begging to be expressed as it ALWAYS did when he was.....FEELING.  He considered himself to be a Monster of considerable control over his own emotions and magic, but when his emotions DID brim up and his magic wound up in tandem, it was nearly impossible to ignore.

He managed a few bites of his spaghetti before quietly walking to a large cabinet next to the couch, unlocking it with the key he kept on his person at all times, and opened it quietly staring down at his tool of magical refinement.

His violin was a work of art, a masterful design that had been passed down to him by his father, who had favored the piano but kept it because during the Great War, it was one of the only original instruments to survive the relocation, as well as the horror and violence that the Underground faced after.  Many Monsters would hardly consider the elegant instrument to be HIS tool of death and destruction, but Papyrus's hands were able to play at sharp, deadly speeds that were impossible to follow and counter, brought on by YEARS of practice, hours upon hours a day, at his OWN insistence.

It was crafted with work that would put a human's to shame, the wood having been stained red with blood and his own marrow from the hours of practice; the strings were black, forged to never grow dull or to break, and ALWAYS tuned to absolute perfection.  The bow was the same way, the ends razor sharp and the string just as so, enough that Papyrus had landed a killing blow with the bow alone many times.

He quietly took off his leather gloves, loathe to play it outside of battle wearing them; his phalanges were blunted and scarred from the years of playing in such a way that his gloves had reinforced finger tips to keep his hands going through longer, more intense battles without damaging his own hands.  He picked the violin up reverently, feeling his magic connect to the instrument already as he brought it up into position, raising the bow to follow suit--

The front door opened before he could begin playing, turning around and seeing Sans walk into the house, shaking snow from his shoulders.  "I'm home, Boss," Sans said, shrugging off his coat to hang it up.  "Sorry I'm late, there was a blizzard--"  He cut off when he saw the violin in his brother's hands, his eyelights constricting in fear as he took a shaky step back.  "B...Boss...I....I swear, it was the blizzard....!" he stammered.  "Don't....."  He trailed off, unable to finish the train of thought.

Papyrus's eyelights dilated in realization, lowering the violin.  "NO," he said loudly, inwardly cursing at the flinch it caused Sans.  "....no," he repeated more quietly, his hands tightening around his tools.  "...I...did not take it out to punish you."  He saw Sans visibly deflate from relief, and felt a twinge of pain in his soul; did Sans truly think he'd use his violin against him for being LATE? 

He sighed, the magic sifting from his hands to the violin pulsing insistently, pushing him to MAKE A CHOICE and PLAY.

"....Sans," he said softly, getting Sans's attention just from his tone alone.  Papyrus glanced over at the couch and tightened his hands around his tools.  ".....I want to play something for you."

He saw Sans's eyelights constrict again, this time from surprise.  Playing FOR someone instead of AGAINST them was comparable to baring one's soul to another; in a way, it was.  Sans looked contemplative for a moment before quietly walking over to the couch and sitting down.  "....alright," he said.  "...go ahead."

Papyrus stood there for a few long moments before raising his violin again, trying to ignore the instinctive tensing of Sans's shoulders, and put his bow on the strings, letting his magic connect his soul to the violin before beginning to play.

**(Brief intermission; the song I had in mind is this one:[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNnxCqwhEOc ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNnxCqwhEOc))**

Magic and emotion erupted at once from the first draw of his bow, filling the room with a tangible aura that was full of sadness, of heartache, of _love_.  It was painful but beautifully so, like a perfect rose wilting because it had no water, a flame flickering out on a candelabra, a toy collecting dust on the shelf from being ignored for so long.  Papyrus's eye sockets closed, losing himself entirely in his emotional masterpiece, confronting the rawness of his love for Sans and his fears and doubts on the matter because of it.  His magic knew his soul, and while his mind could block it out and try to write it off as a silly whim, his magic would have none of it, and neither would his violin. 

He felt tears prickle at his eye sockets, but he couldn't even find shame in them, couldn't find the will to stop playing to wipe them away even to keep Sans from seeing them.  He WANTED Sans to see them, WANTED Sans to HEAR what he was feeling deep in his soul.

His eye sockets opened.

And Sans was gone.

For the first time in YEARS, Papyrus's finger slipped on the string, his note souring and snapping his magic back almost violently.  His hands shook as he stared at the empty spot where Sans had been occupying, feeling a breaking in his soul as he slowly lowered his violin.

"Don't stop playing."

His head snapped up, seeing Sans walking back into the living room with his bass guitar in his hands.  The instrument, though not nearly as old or well-crafted as Papyrus's violin, was still sturdy and tough and Sans's fingers could create basslines almost as fast as Papyrus could on his own instrument, not needing an amp of any sort and just using his own magic to do the work for him.  The fact that Sans also occasionally used it as a literal battle axe was another manner entirely.

Sans walked back over to the couch and sat back down, adjusting up his bass and looking up at Papyrus.  "...keep playing," he said.  Papyrus hesitated for a moment before repositioning his violin and playing again.  This time, just a few notes in, a low, steady bassline accompanied it like a heartbeat, syncing in perfect harmony both in sound and in magic, creating a conversation between them.

_I have hurt you all of these years with only myself to blame_

**I deserved the pain, after what I put you through  
**

_I give you nothing but poison, pierce you with nothing but thorns  
_

**I happily drink your poison, and I wear your thorns with pride  
**

_I have burned every bridge to you  
_

**I will swim to you if I have to  
**

_You are my rock; unmovable, unshakable, grounding  
_

**You are my fire; my heart, my home, my light  
**

_I deserve nothing from you, to suffer for the pain I have brought on you  
_

**I give you everything, and forgive you for everything  
**

_Sans_

**Papyrus**

_I want you, I need you  
_

**I want you, I need you  
**

_I desire you  
_

**I desire you**

_I love you_

**I love you  
**

_I love you  
_

**I love you  
**

_**I love you  
** _

The music stopped.

The instruments were lowered.

And their twisted, hurt, red souls pulsed with more life than they thought possible as their instruments were put aside for each other, not needing their tools in order to express themselves.  Not now. 

Not anymore.


	4. (T) Underswap--King Sans

This one was suggested by Sora_Tayuya, who asked   **I really need to see someone do something about a potential King US Sans. I can't quite picture it, but I'd like to see how US Sans could end up being the ruler at the end of a neutral run, US Pap being there for him, and suddenly the tables are turned and turns out US Sans isn't playing games anymore: he fully intends US Pap to be his queen, and 'queeny' isn't interested. I can't quite visualize how US Sans could manage subduing US Pap.**

Let's see if we can give 'em what they want!

* * *

 

 

Papyrus considered himself to be a supportive brother.

He supported Sans when he displayed sadness at the human leaving the Underground.

He supported Sans when the elder brother made a bid for the throne and all but asserted himself as King.

He supported Sans when he needed help and guidance in bringing up morale in the kingdom, doing all he could to make things run that much more smoothly.

And despite his help, he knew that Sans may have bitten off more than he could chew with his declaration as King, and could see the strain it was putting on his normally-boundless brother.  So he did everything in his power to make things better, even participating in Sans's....odd little whims.  So he broadened his support.

He supported Sans when he INSISTED on Papyrus pulling up the second throne and sitting in it to aid in grievance meetings.

He supported Sans when he had Papyrus wear a purple cape with the royal seal on it, something only a royal should ever wear.

But when he walked into the royal bedchamber and saw Sans standing there with a set of white dress robes and a small golden crown, he knew his support had gone far enough.

"...What's all this?" he asked, chewing on the end of his cigarette, his eyelights flickering between Sans and the outfit displayed on the bed.  Sans's bright blue eyelights shone like stars, his grin beaming. 

"It's your royal wedding garb!" he said, flinging the end of his own purple cape to the side dramatically, revealing a custom-tailored set of white ceremonial armored garb underneath, making Papyrus wonder just WHEN Sans had the time to commission it.  "You are going to be my queen, Papyrus!"

Ah, shit.  He knew his years of support and humoring would come back to bite him in the coccyx.  He took the cigarette from between his teeth, sighing.  "Sans, we can't get married," he said, like it was OBVIOUS.  "I'm your brother.  And in any case, I'm already your advisor.  And if I read through the royal handbook right, a duke by family relations anyway."  There WAS no royal handbook, obviously, but it was just plain common sense. 

Sans put on his impetuous pout, hands on his hips.  "I put a LOT of thought into this, Papyrus," he replied, his spine straightening to make himself taller.  It didn't really work much.  "You would have SO much more authority and influence as my queen!  The Guard and the people will listen to you without fail!  You'll be put on the same tier of respect and honor as me, which is what you deserve!"  He walked up to Papyrus and knelt down on one knee, holding up a box with a small golden ring inside.  "So please, won't you be my queen?"

Papyrus felt as though he had picked up his weed instead of his cigarettes today, this was so bizarre.  He stared at the ring, stared at the robes (the DRESS), stared at the crown, and then stared at Sans, who was waiting for an answer.  "....Sans, no one will accept this," he said slowly.  "Who would even marry us--?"

"Oh, I'll do it myself!" Sans chirped.  "No problem there, no reason to worry!"

Papyrus wanted nothing more than to bang his head against the wall; of COURSE Sans would marry them himself.  Like it was some sort of disturbing little doll game.  At least if it was a play-marriage just to satisfy his own whims, Papyrus figured better that than EVERYONE in the whole goddamn Underground seeing him in a dress. 

He would support Sans in this.

Papyrus bit back a grimace as he raised his hand slightly.  "...alright," he said.  Sans let out a happy squeal, taking the ring out of the box and putting it onto Papyrus's ring finger before grabbing his hand and hurrying over to the bed.

"Get dressed--and DON'T get ash on it!--and meet me in the hall!" Sans said, his voice full of vigor and pep.  "Ooooh, this is the best day of my life!"  He let out a very unkingly 'WHOOP!' and hurried out of the room, leaving Papyrus standing there with the robes (DRESS, goddamn it) and the crown, wondering what he did in a past life to deserve this.

* * *

 

Thankfully--oh THANK you, sweet merciful gods, THANKFULLY--there was no one in the castle on his way to the hall.  The (dress) robes were definitely made from Spider Monster silk just from the feel of it--Muffet's clothes were casual, but she didn't shirk on fashion, he came to find--and fit him perfectly, although it trained slightly in the back.  It hung light and cool on his bones, sliding easily to make walking simple.  He was sure Sans would fret too much if he wore his tennis shoes with it for this elaborate farce, so he elected to barefoot.

The crown rested more of a circlet around his skull, and it weighed heavy like his bad choices, choosing to humor Sans in this being one of them.  He felt like an idiot, both inside and out, and prayed that Sans would be satisfied after the 'wedding'. 

Papyrus came to the hall, taking a deep breath before exhaling, and quietly stepped inside.

The bright light streaming in through the stained glass windows made everything illuminate like gold, especially the golden flowers that had been relocated from the courtyard into the hall.  The flowers were arranged in a way to create a narrow path to walk, up to the end of the hall where Sans was standing.  Jeeze, Sans didn't halfass anything when it came to what he wanted, Papyrus thought to himself as he quietly walked down the path and up to Sans, whose eyelights were gleaming wetly, like he was about to cry.

"You look beautiful, Papy," Sans said, his voice sounding breathless with such sincerity that Papyrus felt a warm orange glow on his cheekbones.  He smiled, taking Papyrus's hands in his own, lacing their fingers together.  "Are you ready?"

 _'Ready to get this over with so I can get out of this dress,'_ Papyrus thought, but he just nodded. 

Sans grinned more broadly before putting on a more serious face, his posture straightening up almost regally.  "Then let's begin."  He paused, taking a deep breath.  "I, King Sans, take you, Papyrus, as my Queen.  You will be my partner, my equal, and my spouse from now until the end of time."  He squeezed Papyrus's fingers.  "Now you."

Papyrus felt his jaw twitch; this sounded TOO real to be just a game, but he just wanted this OVER with.  "....I, Papyrus....take you, Sans....as...as my King," he said, trying to keep the discomfort out of his voice.  "....You will be my partner, my equal, and my....my spouse........from now until the end of time."  GODS, this was so WRONG....!

"Then by the power vested in me as the Lord and Sovereign of the Underground and all Monster-kind, I pronounce us King and Queen!" Sans announced before letting Papyrus's hands go to reach up and take Papyrus's skull in his hands.  "I may now kiss my Queen."

_Wait, WHAT--_

Papyrus's eyelights constricted into pinpricks when Sans pulled him down and pressed their teeth together.  Although too numb for much thought, Papyrus swore he felt a pulsing of SOMETHING in his soul.

* * *

 

He made a BIG MISTAKE.  A BIG.  FUCKING.  MISTAKE.

After the 'wedding', after the KISS, Sans took Papyrus's hand and led him out to a balcony, where the ENTIRE FUCKING CAPITOL was gathered, and announced to EVERYONE that Papyrus was now his wedded Queen.  There was less of an uproarious applause, as much of a stunned silence that Sans took to mean they were too overcome with joy at a full monarchy again to properly cheer.  Papyrus never wanted to run and hide underneath the bed as much as he did in that moment, but Sans's death grip on his hand kept him from bolting, and he was forced to stand there as Sans waved to the crowd.

Papyrus's brain was full of static the entire time he was out there, and he didn't know if it was just for a few minutes or an hour before Sans led him back inside, shutting the balcony doors behind them and then leading them off to the royal bedchamber.  His nerve was sparked again as soon as the door was shut, jerking his hand out of Sans's. 

"Sans!  What was THAT!?" he demanded, his hands shaking hard.  Sans blinked, looking up at him. 

"What do you mean?" he asked.  "You know what it was.  We're married, you're my Queen, and I was announcing it--"

"WE ARE NOT MARRIED!" Papyrus shouted, his nerves shot to hell and back.  "That....that wasn't REAL, Sans!  It wasn't a REAL wedding because it was just YOU who--"  He cut off when he felt a sharp sting of coldness in his soul, seeing Sans's expression drop and eyelights dim to an icy blue, small fists clenching tightly.

"I'm the KING, Papyrus," Sans replied, his voice dropping an octave.  "I can officiate ANYTHING I want."  His hand shot out, snatching up Papyrus's ring hand and holding it up.  "We're MARRIED.  You SAID you would marry me!  You accepted the ring, came down in the robes, wearing the crown, said the vows, and you say it wasn't REAL!?"  His free hand shook hard before it shot up and slapped Papyrus across the face.

Papyrus's skull shot to the side in shock, having NEVER expected Sans to raise a hand to him.  He raised his free hand, pressing it to his cheekbone and looked down, seeing Sans's eye sockets dripping tears before Sans dropped Papyrus's hand and turned to the door.  His hand braced on the door before pausing, his shoulders visibly tensing under the armor and the cape.

"YOU might not take this job seriously," he said, his voice shaking lowly, "but I DO.  I take being King seriously, I take being your brother seriously, and I took being your HUSBAND seriously."  He side-eyed Papyrus, his eyelight glowing almost venomously.  "You're my Queen now.  But until you're ready to take THAT seriously, you can just STAY in here so you don't ruin the morale of OUR kingdom!"  He jerked the door open and slammed it shut, and Papyrus felt his spine jolt when he heard it lock. 

"SANS!" he shouted, pulling at the door hard to no avail.  "SANS, OPEN THIS DOOR!  SANS!"  He hit at it before flaring up his magic--and nearly dropped to his knees when his own magic fizzled right out from an outside source.  He sat there in numbness before jerking the collar of his dress down, looking between his ribs and feeling a wave of nausea run over him when he saw a band of blue enveloping his orange-magicked soul.

_SANS USED THEIR MARRIAGE BOND TO PUT A CAP ON HIS MAGIC._

"SAAAAAAAAAAANS!" he screamed, throwing himself against the door.  "SANS, LET ME OUT!  SANS!  SAAAAAAAANS!"

_............but nobody came._

* * *

 

It took three days of isolation before Papyrus broke, huddled up on the bed without his magic, his cigarettes, or outside company of any sort.  He was so out of it from isolation that he didn't notice Sans come in until he felt a petting at his skull.  His eyelights flickered, seeing Sans looking down at him sorrowfully.

"Oh, Papy..." Sans said quietly, eye sockets watering up.  "...I'm so sorry....I...didn't want to hurt you..."  He rubbed his eye sockets with his free hand.  "...you hurt me SO badly, Papyrus....I just....wanted us to be happy...to be TOGETHER..."  He sniffled, shifting to lay down next to Papyrus and hug him tightly.  ".......we.....we CAN be happy, Papyrus!  Please....just.......just TRY."  He pressed soft kisses to Papyrus's skull.  "Please, Papy...please please please.....I love you..."

Papyrus let out a shaky breath, his own eye sockets watering up; no matter what, he HATED it when Sans cried.  It was his greatest weakness, the one thing he couldn't stand no matter what.  He raised an arm and curled it around Sans, holding him tightly and burying his face into Sans's caped shoulder.  "...okay..." he murmured quietly.  "....okay, Sans...."

Sans smiled, nuzzling Papyrus's face.  "We'll be so happy, Papyrus.....we'll rule together and be happy...I promise...."

* * *

 

Promises....

.....promises mean nothing without the grit to fulfill them.

Papyrus wore the robes, he wore the crown, he wore the ring, and he wore the mantle of Queen.  He sat on the throne next to Sans's, added his input when asked, and slowly stopped flinching when Sans would reach over and clasp their hands together.

He wanted to leave, wanted to tear off the robes, throw away the crown, and wrench the ring off of his finger sometimes and disappear forever, especially when a servant, a Guard, or a Monster coming in for a grievance would give them looks of discomfort, disgust, or disapproval.  But the hand over his would clench, the band around his magic would tighten, and Papyrus would see Sans's smile and eyelights harden at the disapproving Monster until they left.

Papyrus became aware of a FEELING from that band, of possessiveness, soothing, and love, whenever there was another Monster in the room with them.  It was meant to be a comfort, he knew, but it was just a reminder that his own magic wasn't even at his disposal anymore.  It made him feel weak and shamed, almost cowed when there was another Monster close by.

It peaked when there was a grievance visit from a particularly nasty Monster who, after Sans proclaimed a plan to ease the supply routes up, snapped and began shouting at Sans for being a miserable excuse of a King who didn't know what the hell he was doing.  Papyrus instinctively stood from his throne and glowered angrily at the Monster.

"YOU do not speak to my brother like that!" he growled, his magic straining against the band around it.  "He is your KING--"

"And YOU are his disgusting incestuous WHORE!" the Monster shot back; Papyrus didn't even have time to properly be offended before Sans swung the royal staff out and bashed it across the Monster's face, slamming it into the ground with the prongs barely missing either side of the Monster's neck as Sans loomed over him, eyelights blazing violently.

"THAT is your QUEEN you are speaking to!" Sans hissed.  "How DARE you say such terrible things to your monarch, you beast!  You will apologize this INSTANT!"

Papyrus stood there stunned, having never seen such venom coming from his brother before.  His eyelights flickered down to the Monster, who was shaking violently and struggling to form words.  A growl from Sans and a jerk of the staff finally gave the Monster the push to shout out a desperate apology.

Sans leaned back, dislodging the staff from the floor and glowering down at the Monster.  "GUARDS!" he shouted, and two Royal Guardsmen entered the room immediately.  "Escort him to the dungeon," he commanded.  "He has offended the Queen and deserves to be punished.  Six months!"

The Monster sputtered indignantly as the Guards dragged him off, leaving Sans ad Papyrus alone again.  Sans sighed, the venom and anger almost visibly leaving his body before he sat back down, sending a smile to Papyrus.  "Sit down and relax, Paps," he said.  "We can take a break if you want.  I know you must be overwhelmed by now."

Papyrus quietly sat back down, his bones trembling as what just happened began to sink in.  He let out a shaky sigh, fought down the tears of frustration and hurt...

...and reached over to put his hand over Sans's.

"...I could use a break."

Sans smiled, leaning the staff against his throne and turned his palm up to hold Papyrus' hand tightly.  "Then we'll take a break."  He leaned over, pressing his teeth to Papyrus's cheekbone.

"Anything for my Queen."

 


	5. (M) Swapfell--Ride the Pony

We're back, and volatileSoloiste requested  **SF!Sans rides SF!Papyrus in both sense of the word, if you please.**   As you wish!

* * *

 

 

Some days, Sans noticed, there was quite literally nothing to do. 

It was a rarity, to say the least; most of the time, he was working in the labs, or Undyne was borrowing Papyrus to help in the engineering department, or both were on their secondary job as the unofficial mercenaries for the monarchy.  It was an overlapping schedule that left little besides home life to do.

But today was one of those rare days where they were both off from work, no one they had to go dust, nothing.

And Sans was bored.

Granted, it was only 9 AM and he was still in bed, but he was still bored.

Next to him, Papyrus was dozing heavily since it was an off day, not at all bothered by the scrapes around his wrist bones from last night.  Sans took a few minutes to enjoy Papyrus's sleeping; it was one of the only times Papyrus was completely relaxed, which was a rarity in and of itself.  Papyrus was either in complete servitude, anxious out in public, or in 'attack dog' mode.  Only when he was sleeping or engrossed in an engineering project was he calm and relaxed, and Sans treasured those precious times when they happened.

Still, Papyrus couldn't sleep forever, and neither could Sans; as much as he enjoyed his downtime, Sans was loathed to remain idle in bed all day.  .....even if he WAS burned out from the unusually hellish week of physics reviews, two mercenary jobs in a row, and training with Alphys....and his body still ached....ugh.  He rubbed his eye sockets, wondering if it would be worth his joints to start moving again when a thought occurred to him.  It had been awhile since he and Papyrus had tried something new...hm....maybe....

He reached over and brushed his fingers over Papyrus's face, smiling when his little brother woke up and yawned adorably.  So hard to believe that just yesterday he'd clawed a Monster's eyes out.  "Good morning, Papyrus," Sans said.  Papyrus smiled, sitting up a little and lowering his head.

"Good morning, m'Lord," he replied.  "How may I be of service to you today?"

"I'm SO glad you asked," Sans replied, giving Papyrus a sharp grin.  "Come over to my side of the bed and kneel on all fours on the floor."  He pushed the sheets off of him as Papyrus obeyed, not even bothering to keep his appreciative gaze on the taller Skeleton's body to himself as Papyrus knelt on the floor, hands braced up and hips arched so there was a perfect curve in his lower spine.  Sans slipped to the side of the bed and braced one hand on Papyrus's scapula and the other on the coccyx, almost daintily sitting himself on the curve of Papyrus's spine, side-saddle fashioned.  "I don't feel like walking today," he stated.  "Today, you will be my ride to wherever I need to be."

"Yes, m'Lord," Papyrus said obediently.  Sans beamed, grabbing his crop from the bedside table and lightly smacking Papyrus's femur with it.

"I need a shower," he said, and Papyrus immediately headed for the bathroom, keeping his movements smooth so as to not jostle his Lord in any way.  Sans smiled, keeping his hand braced on Papyrus's scapula to keep his balance as he was carried to the bathroom.  Papyrus reached up and turned the water on before carefully maneuvering into the bathtub, and Sans was pretty impressed by how easily he made it look, considering this was one thing they hadn't done before. 

Sans was at the perfect height sitting down for the water to hit him and for him to grab his bathing essentials.  He scrubbed down the grime and magic residue from his bones, humming softly as he did so.  After he was clean, he began scrubbing down Papyrus's bones too, feeling a rattling purr roll over Papyrus's spine at the action, but was pleased when Papyrus's frame remained steadfast.

After a rinse-off and drying, Sans was carried back to their room, where he directed Papyrus to the closet and took out something clean to wear, balancing himself neatly on Papyrus's spine as he tugged on his clothing and boots.  After adjusting his shirt, he glanced down and saw Papyrus looking at his clothes questioningly, picking up his crop and smacking Papyrus's femur.  "Beasts of burden do not wear clothes," he said.  "I'm hungry now.  To the kitchen."

It was impressive how Papyrus made it down the stairs on all fours--he could have just teleported, but Sans knew he would never have done that without permission--and took Sans's direction to the couch, waiting until his Lord was relocated up before sitting back on his heels for orders.  "I want my usual breakfast," Sans said.  "With coffee.  I will eat on the couch today."  Papyrus nodded and headed into the kitchen, quickly making up his Lord's breakfast before walking back in with a tray, kneeling and giving it to Sans.

"I require a table to eat on," Sans said, and immediately Papyrus was back on all fours, presenting his back to Sans, who set the tray down and began eating, using Papyrus's scapula as a coaster for his coffee cup.

Papyrus remained motionless as Sans ate, not moving until Sans began taking strips of meat from his own plate and putting it to Papyrus's teeth to feed him.  As Papyrus ate, Sans petted Papyrus's skull, smiling.  "What a good beast of burden you are," he cooed.  "I may have to utilize your talents more often, won't I?"

"Yes, m'Lord."

"Don't speak with your mouth full, beast."

After breakfast was over and the dishes were washed, Sans tuned into some television; not actually watching it, so much as giving himself an excuse to use Papyrus as a lounge chair, the couch abandoned behind them.  Two hours in, and still Papyrus's frame remained steadfast, truly impressing Sans with his dedication to the scene.  All those years in the Guard really did wonders for the younger brother's strength, and Sans was just pleased he was able to enjoy the perks that training reaped. 

He truly adored that aspect; it was no secret that despite Sans's own honed skills, Papyrus remained the stronger brother, by a LANDSLIDE.  All that strength, all that power, and Sans had it all to himself with only their enemies witnessing it moments before their demise.

A low purr rattled his frame, and under him he felt Papyrus twitch in response, the first off movement he made since the scene began.  Sans was honestly impressed with Papyrus's strength and dedication, and felt that his little brother earned a reward.  He smiled, trailing a sharp fingertip over Papyrus's skull, feeling a wave of a shudder run down Papyrus's spine from under him.  "You've been such a good boy, Papyrus," he purred, lowering his legs to the floor and standing up with Papyrus's spine between his femurs.  "Turn around, but stay up."

Papyrus slowly shifted so he was kneeling backwards, staring up at his Lord with gleaming, desperate eyelights, his rib cage pulsing with hitched breathing.  Sans gave him a sharp grin, undoing his pants and doing some careful maneuvering himself to remove them, kicking them to the side before sitting back on Papyrus's pelvis, lifting the weight from his legs so Papyrus would instead support him.  Papyrus didn't even buckle an inch, despite this position being more strenuous, and the past several hours of keeling being taken into consideration.  Sans reached down and squeezed Papyrus's spine, eliciting a sharp hiss from the younger Skeleton, his golden-orange magic sifting in his pelvis.

"Do you want your Lord, Papyrus?" Sans growled, stroking his hand up and down Papyrus's spine.  Papyrus nodded, practically drooling with desire.  "Speak, beast."

"Y-yes, m'Lord...!" he groaned, his hips twitching slightly.  Sans squeezed his spine again, using his free hand to rub his pelvis, electric blue magic coalescing into a small mound, tracing his finger over the slit, enjoying the desperate gleam in Papyrus's eyelights that bordered on unhinged.  "M'Lord, please....!"

Sans cracked his crop across Papyrus's face.  "Beasts of burden do not beg!" he said.  "They take what they are given to them!"  His grip on Papyrus's spine was almost enough to crack the bones.  "I don't want to have to do any of the work, beast.  YOU will bring me to orgasm yourself, understood?"  Papyrus nodded eagerly, his right eyelight flaring brightly as he formed his ectoplasmic cock, arching against his older brother.

Bracing himself back on Papyrus's femurs, Sans raised himself up just enough to position himself above Papyrus and lower himself down, gritting his teeth to keep from making any undignified sounds too soon.  His legs shook slightly with nothing under them to take the brunt of his weight, clasping his hands around Papyrus's femurs tightly until he got his balance, sitting up straight.  "My program won't be over for another fifteen minutes," he stated, his voice only quivering slightly.  "You will not pause, you will not orgasm before me, do you understand?"  Papyrus nodded, growling softly.  "Then begin."

Papyrus kept himself braced up as he rolled his hips slowly, not being permitted to go any faster per Sans's instructions.  Above him, Sans half-focused on the TV, trying to keep himself under control; it was difficult, considering how deep Papyrus was and how at any moment Papyrus's magic could take on a mind of its own, as it was prone to do with prolonged denial of satisfaction.  As much as he wanted THAT to happen, he had to consider that it was much harder to get the stains out of carpet than out of sheets.

He dropped his crop and braced his hands back on Papyrus's femurs, panting hard as he swung his legs up to brace his boots on Papyrus's rib cage, his arms shaking violently as he fought to remain upright.  At this point, dignity could go right to hell, just wanted a goddamn orgasm, and he wanted it NOW--

Sans let out a loud, profanity-laiden keen of ecstasy as he came, gushing blue magic over his and Papyrus's pelvises, his soul dripping extra blue out from under his shirt.  His arms were close to giving out, gasping out, "Floor, now!" and was thankful for Papyrus's instinct to follow his orders before his own biological urges, his back hitting the floor less than a second after Papyrus did the same.  He ran both hands over his skull, panting hard as his soul pounded in his rib cage, spurting more magic through his ribs as it did so.  "Ffffffuck," he hissed out, wiping the sweat and saliva from his face before glancing down, seeing Papyrus half-sitting up on his elbows, eyelights sparking almost violently in an effort to keep his own magic under control but unwilling to let that control snap until he knew his Lord was okay. 

Such dedication and love was what REALLY did it for Sans, in the end.  He gave Papyrus a smile, holding his arms out.  "Finish up, beast," he purred.  "You've earned it."

The fiery glare of golden-orange in Papyrus's eye sockets let him know that the rest of the evening was likely going to be spent getting stains out of the carpet.

Worth it.


	6. (G) Underswap--Papyton

Next up, Mango has asked, **"I was wondering if you could do some Papyton fluff in Underswap? Thank you!"**   Let's get to it!

* * *

 

 

Mettablook wondered a lot of things.

He wondered why he wasn't as outgoing as his cousin Napstaton, the music star of the Underground, or as calm and collected around people like Maddablook.

He wondered what might happen if he tried performing the dreams he had, all of them archived in his journals but never shown to anyone.

He wondered what might have happened if the human hadn't freed them all.

But today, he wondered WHY HE HAD AGREED TO THIS DOUBLE DATE WITH NAPSTATON.

Mettablook fidgeted nervously outside the restaurant next to Napstaton, feeling horribly awkward as a floating pink Ghost Monster next to the sleek, handsome design of his cousin's metal body.  He cursed his New Year's resolution to be a BIT more outgoing by saying yes when Napstaton said he needed someone to double with him and his new boyfriend Sans.  However, Mettablook didn't expect Sans's own brother to show up.

Tall, statuesque, and absolutely HANDSOME, Mettablook couldn't believe Sans brought his brother as the double.  Papyrus was the sort of Monster that most would DREAM about, and his height of popularity was when he was co-Captain of the Royal Guard before quitting for 'personal reasons'.  Still years later, his popularity among the romantically-inclined hadn't waned and even if he didn't have the big hero-of-the-Guard thing going for him, he DEFINITELY still had the coolness factor on his side.

Mettablook almost phased out of the area just from the SIGHT of him, but kept a grip on the one small nerve he had, for Napstaton's sake.  His cousin was absolutely smitten with the older of the Skeleton brothers, and he couldn't ruin that with his own shyness.  Still, even his resolution had its limits and he barely spoke a word or made eye(socket) contact with Papyrus for the entirety of the dinner, content with losing himself in the equalized enthusiasm of Napstaton and Sans chatting away.  As such, it was almost two hours in that he realized that Papyrus hadn't spoken up either.

During dessert, Mettablook dared to peek up at Papyrus, seeing the taller Skeleton leaning his elbow on the table, head in hand, and lazily sucking honey out of the bottle as he looked like he was sleeping without ACTUALLY sleeping; it actually made Mettablook feel a little more at ease.  Maybe Sans had dragged him along too. 

The 'date' ended soon after that, and Mettablook held back a little, giving Napstaton the privacy he wanted to bid goodnight to Sans, feeling his cheeks turn magenta at the lovey-dovey words that he could barely hear.  It wasn't until he caught the scent of cigarette smoke did he notice Papyrus standing next to him, hands shoved in pockets and unabashedly watching the couple that was now competing for first place in the Nose-Nuzzling Championship.  Ohhhhhh, how Mettablook wished he could disappear by now, being so close to Papyrus and just not mustering up the nerve to just SAY SOMETHING--

"Not really the date you expected, eh?"

Mettablook squeaked, looking up at Papyrus, whose eyelights were trained on him almost lazily.  The Ghost's cheeks turned magenta as he fidgeted in place, not knowing what to SAY.  Papyrus shrugged, lifting a hand to slip the cigarette out from between his teeth.  "Going OUT isn't really my thing," he continued in his (apparently) usual slow drawl.  "Not much of a crowd guy.  Probably wouldn't have even come on this double with Sans if Napstaton hadn't talked ya up so much."  His smile broadened at Mettablook's deepening blush.  "But I get it.  First date jitters.  How's about a second date to REALLY get to know each other?"

Oh dear, if he had a heart, it would be stopping by this point.  Mettablook didn't know WHAT possessed him to do so, but he gave Papyrus a shy nod, and before he could take it back--  "Alright then," Papyrus said, slipping a stick of gum out of its wrapper and then clicking open a pen to write something down, handing it off to Mettablook.  "Give me a call sometime, wont ya?"  He winked, then headed off to meet up with Sans, who was loudly announcing that it was time to go home so he could have his milk before bed.

Mettablook stared after the brothers for a moment before looking down and seeing a cell phone number jotted down on the gum wrapper.  Oh dear.  Ohhhhhhh dear.

* * *

 

"Metta?  Cousin, babe, light of my life, tell me....WHEN are you gonna call Papyrus!?"

Napstaton was sprawled on Mettablook's bed, front-down, legs kicked back like a gossipy teenager, almost pouting at Mettablook, who was blushing bright magenta with enough embarrassment to light a beacon to be seen across the sea.  The Ghost buried his face in his desk, letting out a low wail.  "Napsta, you just don't GET it!" he whined.  "This is PAPYRUS we're talking about!  You know, the former Royal Guardsman, Master and Commander of the South Legion, the Lance of Toriel himself!?"

Slow blink from Napstaton.  "Wow," he deadpanned.  "And here I thought you couldn't have MORE of a crush on him."  He rolled his eyes.  "Honestly, what does that matter NOW?  The guy's not the Lance of Toriel anymore, he's a dork in a hoodie who works at a tobacco shop and smokes more than he sells, and who GAVE YOU HIS NUMBER.  A week ago.  Seriously, Sans told me he's been DYING for you to call him."

Mettablook shot him an affronted glare.  "That had BETTER not be a pun about how we're Skeletons and Ghosts, Napsta," he muttered.  "And in ANY case, why would he even WANT to go on another date with me?  I mean...I'm..."  He deftly gestured over his plain light-pink transparent form.  "...you know.  Not..."  Another gesture, this time to Napstaton.  Napstaton frowned, sitting up and scooting over to Mettablook, hugging him in the way all Blooks knew how without the Ghostly form phasing through them. 

"Metta, you're perfect the way you are," he said.  "You really are.  You're smart, you're creative, and you've got so much more love to give, if you just LET yourself be loved."  He nuzzled the top of Mettablook's head.  "You deserve so much more than loneliness here on the snail farm.  C'mon.  Give Papyrus a call.  Maybe...you know...he's just looking for some quiet companionship too."

Mettablook blushed, hugging his cousin back before turning and picking up the wrapper with the number on it, letting out a sigh before getting his cell phone.

* * *

 

The second date was fine.

And so was the third.

And the fourth.

Even the ones that could hardly be described as a 'date', but sort of still counted.

Whether it was going out in Papyrus's car to pick up take-out, or spending the night stargazing, or--Mettablook's favorite--just lying back on the living room floor and pretending they were garbage, all of the time he spent with Papyrus was....nice.

Papyrus was quiet, for the most part.  He was quick with a joke and had a comeback for anything when spoken to, but he seemed to speak MORE when he was silent.  Mettablook had become quite the master of reading soul aura after years of solitary observation and being the wallflower, and whenever it was just the two of them, doing whatever it was they were doing, when Papyrus was sitting in silence with a cigarette between his teeth and staring off at nothing, his aura would begin to speak.

It spoke of undying devotion to his friends and family.

It spoke of kindness and justice.

It spoke of loneliness.

It spoke of yearning for his days of glory, and loathing them at the same time.

It spoke of letting everyone's disappointment at his resignation from the Royal Guard roll off of him.

It spoke of short days of tiredness and long nights of wired insomnia, unable to do anything about either.

It spoke of tenderness when looking at Mettablook, of gratitude of someone else enjoying the silence in a world that never stopped talking.

Mettablook enjoyed conversing with Papyrus this way; Papyrus seemed to read his aura just as well, and liked the fact that words weren't needed to convey thoughts, emotions, secrets...even scars that could never be seen, from years of solitude, suppressed pain, and sadness.  There were days where Papyrus would go without speaking a single word, but Mettablook heard EVERYTHING.  Bad days that Mettablook could FEEL twisting in turmoil like a storm within Papyrus, that made him curl up against the Skeleton and pour out all the comfort his own soul could muster.  And likewise, when Mettablook had his days, where everything from his soul to his form to his own creative output didn't feel RIGHT, and he would curl up on the floor and feel lower than the mites on roaches on garbage, Papyrus would be there, lying out next to him, and letting him know that it was OKAY.

Today was such a day.  Sometimes, the thought never passed his mind, but on days like this, watching Napstaton's concert on TV, seeing his gleaming, perfect metal body flicker with the lights of the stage and his own LED implants, he would begin to feel WRONG.  His soul felt too bare, his Ghostly form felt ungainly and gormless, and he felt like his whole life was being WASTED, unable to express his innate desire to DANCE, to PERFORM, to INSPIRE, all because he was trapped in his own fear and insecurities!

Tears began dripping down his face, and he couldn't even stop them to avoid the awkwardness of Papyrus seeing them.  He had NEVER cried in front of Papyrus, it was something SHAMEFUL to share, this deep of an insecure envy or his cousin's fame and adoration.  He buried his face in his hands, crying softly, and stopped when he felt a hand on his head.

It wasn't the hand itself, so much as the SOLIDNESS of it.  For Ghosts, anything that wasn't made with Ghost Magic was like a ghost to THEM; in which case, for the most part only Ghosts could really interact freely with other Ghosts as any Monster could with each other.  But Papyrus's hand was solid on his head, warm and caring, much like the Skeleton's soul itself, making him look up and see Papyrus giving him a soft smile, petting his head carefully.

"...you don't need to think like that," he said quietly, the first words he'd spoken directly today.  "I think you're perfect just the way you are."  His smile broadened before he leaned down and lightly pressed his teeth against Mettablook's mouth.

Mettablook felt a spark of magic before feeling the solidness again, accompanied by MORE coming from Papyrus's aura.

_You're wonderful._

_You're perfect._

_You're special._

_You're mine._

Mettablook's soul fluttered as he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss.

And wondered how he'd gotten to be the luckiest Monster in the world.


	7. (T) Underfell--The Epilogue

Another from Mango, who asked for   **"** **UF Pacifist ending interpretation of character development or what happens to the bros or anyone else? Like another war or is it happy, how do Monsters adjust after living so cruelly for so long?"**   Coincidentally, I have been wanting to do an epilogue for my Underfell stories that tells that, so here's the chance to!

* * *

 

 

 

The progress was slow; tediously, almost painfully slow.  The Barrier was gone, and Monsters everywhere felt the scent of freedom wash over them. 

It was hard, keeping the Monsters at bay to keep from barreling out of the Underground and up to the Surface, but Asgore made sure he had everyone's attention before announcing his intentions; that there was to be no more bloodshed, no more violence, and certainly, no more genocide against humans.  They were free, and he was not going to risk another war that may slaughter them all for good. 

Naturally, many Monsters were not happy with this news.  For most, all of their lives had revolved around the creed of 'kill or be killed', and now they were suddenly expected to be PEACEFUL?  There was talk of anarchy, of attacking any nearby human villages and killing them all, but Undyne and Papyrus put a stop to that VERY quickly.  They had both witnessed the power that kindness and love--the REAL love--could bring, and didn't want ANYTHING to ruin that for them.  They had reasons to live, reasons to keep this peace, and if they had to thin out the numbers so those who WANTED this chance could have it, then so be it.

It passed like a blur, endless and tireless until everyone involved in the peacekeeping was ready to collapse and sleep until they couldn't sleep anymore, but a settlement at the base of the mountain had been established and at last, with most of the remaining Royal Guard and some volunteers assisting, the Alpha group could rest.

Sans and Papyrus holed up in a small lean-to house, instinctively taking on-and-off sleep/watch cycles, despite there being not so much as an aura of anger around their temporary home.  Still, every day, Sans would wake up to find himself almost cocooned by Papyrus's larger frame, a sharp bone construct in the younger brother's hand and their dog beast sleeping in front of the door as a first defense watch.  Sans missed their home back in Snowdin, and not just for all the extra room.  It was safe, it was familiar...

...but looking out the window at night and seeing the stars was worth the chance of maybe getting shived in his sleep at night. 

Slowly, the small lean-tos and shelters became houses, and settlement areas expanded after careful negotiations with the more genial humans.  It was decided that the mountain range and the valley would belong to the Monsters to settle, which was fine for everyone.  The taller mountains had snow for the colder-blooded Monsters, the valley had a large lake for the aquatic Monsters, and there was plenty of room for anyone to find a spot and settle.

Some Monsters elected to travel outward, hoping to see more of the world and improve relations with humans, which bridged the gap even closer.  Things like entertainment and science became conjoined with their racial counterparts and jobs were created on either side for the other.  Mettaton became an instant success in the human world, becoming a dazzling star just like Frisk told him he could be.  Alphys became renowned for her work and began working with human scientists to better the fields of energy conservation and engineering.  

Undyne remained a Guard, not for Monster-kind, but rather for keeping the peace between humans and Monsters.  Neither race dared to show aggression when she was around, for neither would be shown MERCY if a hand was raised.  When she was off-duty, however, she allowed herself to relax and explore her gentler side, taking up cooking as a hobby and establishing a relationship with Alphys, as well as forming a PROPER friendship with Papyrus instead of a rivalry truce.

Toriel kept Flowey in her care, even going so far as to create a saddle-bag for him so he could be carried around always.  She had been so saddened to find out how many orphaned, abandoned, or abused children there had been in the Underground, and set up an orphanage so she could care for them all.  Slowly, the number of children that still had clear, unbroken eyes grew under her care as they were sheltered, fed, schooled, and loved.

Asgore hardly considered himself a 'King' anymore, especially when he finally let go of his hate and anger.  Hardly anyone recognized the former King by aura anymore as he kept mostly to himself when not going about Monster-Human relation duties.  He took up his old hobby with gardening, dedicating himself to helping life flourish instead of taking it away, and beautifying the valley little by little.

Sans and Papyrus still lived together, but both felt their established relationship begin to simmer down and fade away as they began building their new lives.  Sans had begun feeling something of a small crush with the mysterious lady behind the stone door, and it only grew once they were always within sight of each other.  He liked visiting Toriel in her orphanage, playing with the kids, and watching the former Queen heal as she was in her element as a mother and teacher.  Eventually, he didn't even need a reason to go visit except for the fact that he liked the kids, he liked HER, and he wanted to BE with her.

It was difficult; after four years of being his brother's lover, it was HARD imagining life without that.  It was even harder finding a way to bring it up.  Papyrus was always busy now, primarily being the personal guard and guardian to Frisk, who wanted to stay with the Skeleton brothers after everything.  They had fallen down into the Underground because they had no family, friends, or anyone to love them, and felt so much pain with all the love they had to give and no one to share it with.  Sans found it sad, but knew it was best this way.  Frisk's love and kindness did wonders for Papyrus, whose soul seemed more broken than most anyone Sans knew.

Rather than 'guard', Papyrus seemed to be a full-time father to Frisk, doing everything within his power to make sure they were safe, fed, and happy.  Sans would see how happy Frisk was, especially when Papyrus would drop everything to help with something, or read Frisk a story, or take out time to play with Frisk, but would also see how slightly distanced Papyrus was.  He wasn't surprised.  Papyrus nearly had a panic attack when Frisk called him 'Dad' once, and even he almost had a horrible flashback to his own 'dad'.  Papyrus couldn't bear to see himself as a father because of how absolutely bastardly his own was.

Sans leaned against the wall as he watched Papyrus put the book he had read to Frisk back on the shelf and shut the door after putting Frisk to bed, recalling the sight of Papyrus screaming into a pillow earlier after Frisk had called him 'Dad' that day.  He fidgeted for a moment before looking up.

"Hey...can we talk?"

Papyrus looked so TIRED, he noticed.  Just so TIRED and wanting a drink, but Papyrus nodded and the two walked into the kitchen, where Sans pulled out a couple of beers and cracked them open, passing Papyrus one as they both sat down at the table.  Silence settled between them for awhile before Sans spoke up.

"...you're not HIM, Papyrus," he said softly but firmly.  Papyrus's hands clenched around the bottle, his jaw tight.

"I'm no better."

"You're LEAGUES better.  Y'think Gaster ever read ME a bedtime story?  Ever helped with my homework, or payed any kind of GOOD attention to me?"  Sans tipped the bottle back, taking a swig of beer before lowering it.  "We had a fucked up childhood, Papyrus.  We lived in a fucked-up world, had a fucked-up father, and got fucked up ourselves, but SHIT, we are BETTER than that!"  He gave Papyrus a soft look.  "...YOU are better than that.  You have a code of honor, Papyrus...something he never had.  You don't have a bad bone in you when it comes to Frisk.  YOU are a good dad, Papyrus.  You really are."

Papyrus's hands shook, rattling the bottle slightly.  "...I'm no better than him..." he repeated.  "...because of what I did to YOU."

Sans visibly flinched, lowering his eyelights to his hands.  "...Papyrus...that's different..."

"It ISN'T, and you KNOW it," Papyrus snapped.  "I beat you, mutilated you, RAPED you...!"  He cut off, pressing a hand to his teeth.  "Just....just like HE did...EXACTLY as he did, with--with the tendril magic--"

"PAPYRUS.  STOP."  Sans rubbed his face hard before reaching over and resting a hand on his brother's arm.  "...Papyrus....yes.  You were cruel.  You were heartless.  You were MERCILESS.  But...I was no better when YOU needed ME the most."

"Sans, no--"

"And NOTHING MADE ME STAY.  I felt I DESERVED your cruelty!  I can still remember you as a child, Papyrus...how sweet and kind and generous you were, a shining diamond in the SHIT of the Underground, and I DESTROYED that!  _I_ was no better than our father for doing that!"  Tears dripped down his cheekbones, his hand tightening around Papyrus's arm.  "But...I....after you were cruel, you were kind....you gave me a place to live....clothes to wear, food to eat....you protected me and...and after you fucked me you just held me, and..."  His breath hitched, crying harder.  "...and...things changed....when you gave me an out.  I didn't WANT an out, I just wanted YOU--"

Papyrus shoved the table out of the way, pulling Sans to him and hugging him tightly.  Sans buried his face into Papyrus's shoulder, sobbing as he held his brother tightly.  "I just wanted my brother back, Papy...I didn't care HOW....and I LIKED what we had, I DID, I REALLY DID...!"

"Quiet, Sans," Papyrus said, resting his hand on Sans's head, petting softly as Sans went silent.  "...it doesn't matter if you liked it...it was HOW it happened that was wrong.  And if I could do those things to my own brother...what if I lose my temper around Frisk?  What if I have an episode of rage?  What if I get the URGE to--"

"You won't."  Sans said wetly, hugging Papyrus tighter.  "...Papyrus...you've....you've never EVER struck out at someone who never hurt you first.  That's your justice...a personal law you've never broken.  You WON'T hurt Frisk.  I know you won't."  He wiped his eyes, leaning back to look Papyrus in the eyelight, reaching up to lightly touch his brother's skull crack.  "Whether I truly deserved it or not...karma bit me in the ass for doing this to you....but...it turned into something we both wanted...something we both NEEDED."  He leaned in, pressing his teeth to Papyrus's skull crack.  Papyrus's cheekbones went red before he hugged Sans to him tightly again.

"...I suppose it was," Papyrus replied.  "...but it's not something we...NEED anymore, is it?" 

Both of them remained quiet for a long time.

"...Sans...you deserve someone who makes you happy...someone you can have a real future with."  Papyrus pressed his teeth to Sans's head before setting his brother on the floor and standing up.  Sans's eyelights constricted as he grabbed Papyrus's hand tightly, squeezing it.

"Papyrus...I..."  He shook hard, wiping at his face.  "...I love you, Papyrus....I...I don't wanna lose you...!"  He broke off when Papyrus tipped his head up and kissed him lightly before leaning back.

"...you won't lose me, Sans," he replied, petting Sans's cheekbone.  "...I'll always be your little brother."  He squeezed Sans's hand before letting go and quietly going to his bedroom, leaving Sans in the kitchen, tears of joy and sadness running down his face.

* * *

 

Sans didn't quite know how, or even when it actually happened, but at some point or the other, he found himself fully moved into Toriel's orphanage, helping her take care of the kids with all the big-brother love he kept locked away for years and feeling his soul soften little by little every day he was with her.  Being around kids really had him tone down his jokes, and he found that he liked making the kids and Toriel laugh with the best of his puns.

He was outside now, watching the kids run around and play as Toriel picked flowers for the vases around the orphanage, feeling his cheekbones grow warm at the sight of her white fur gleaming in the sunlight, her soft smile, her ruby-colored eyes sparkling as she spotted him watching and gave him a wave, making him blush harder.  Gods, she was amazing...

Familiar voices turned his attention from her, glancing over the lawn and seeing Papyrus walking down the path with Frisk, the tall Skeleton carrying a bag of groceries, his voice carrying loudly as he was telling Frisk that even if they WERE a pacifist, taking self-defense lessons from him was still a good idea.  Frisk gave him a dubious look but smiled, spotting Sans and waving enthusiastically.  Papyrus glanced over, his expression somewhat unreadable though his eyelights were soft as he gave Sans a nod before going about his way with Frisk, going back to his conversation.

Sans watched them walk away, feeling a soft pang in his soul that was quickly soothed when Toriel leaned over his chair and gave his skull a light surprise kiss and told him it was almost time to get the kids inside for dinner.  He grinned and stretched before standing up and rounding up the giggling kids with blue magic and heading inside with them, feeling glad that Papyrus was taking his role as 'father' to heart.

Heh, wow......he and Papyrus had homes...had lives....and had love.

And it occurred to him, finally, that he was happy.

 


	8. (T) Underswap--Yandere Papyrus

Back for more!  This time it's TheAkwardOtaku requesting   **"For Yandere US!Papyrus, what if there were a ton of red flags about his behavior towards his brother, and even though he honestly creeped Sans out, he was too naive and sweet, and simply brushed off his behavior."**   Looks like a happy fun time one!

* * *

 

 

_'He's with that red asshole again, I just know it.'_

Papyrus took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke sift through his teeth as he silently seethed, thinking about that disgusting excuse of an alternate version of him, all bark and no bite and still SOMEHOW being able to seduce his brother into spending time with him.  It was RIDICULOUS.  That edgelord was all bark and no bite, was rude, abusive to his OWN Sans, and had NO redeemable qualities to speak of.

And YET, his brother couldn't stay away from the asshole.  Always hanging around him, all buddy-buddy and oblivious to the other Papyrus's obvious interest.  It burned him down to the SOUL, seeing the edgelord smiling at his brother, putting his hands on him, sitting Sans in his lap and looking so GODDAMN SMUG ABOUT IT.

It took every ounce of self-control for Papyrus not to snatch his brother away and blast that red asshole to Hell.  But he'd TRIED talking to Sans about it, about how that other Papyrus was OBVIOUSLY coming onto him, but Sans would hear nothing of it.  _"He's just being friendly, Paps!"  "He's using the manners I taught him, Paps!"  "You're being the weird one about this, Paps!"_

GODS, you'd think SANS was the naive little brother, not HIM.

Papyrus flicked his cigarette butt away, sitting himself up and brushing the snow off of his cargos.  He needed a drink, and Muffet's was just the place to be to take his mind off of this.  He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, trekking off to Muffet's quietly and pushed open the door, poised to shout across the establishment for Muffet to get his usual ready and en mass.  His voice got stuck in his mouth, his eyelights dimming into nothing as he watched--almost in slow-motion--as his brother and the other Papyrus faced each other up at the bar and slowly leaned in, their skulls almost touching--

He teleported in an instant, grabbing Edgy McFucklord by the neckbones and tossed him to the floor, summoning a large bone in one hand and pressing it to his other's chest.  "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" he hissed, his right eyelight blazing.  "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!?"

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, YOU ASSHOLE!" the other Papyrus shouted, clenching his hand around the bone pressed to his chest, kicking out to try to nail Papyrus in the kneecap.  Papyrus shifted his leg out of the way, slamming his foot down on the other's femur.

"WHAT did I tell you about MY BROTHER!?" he snapped.  "KEEP YOUR CLAWS OFF OF HIM--"

"PAPYRUS, STOP!"  Sans jumped off of the bar stool, jerking on his arm hard.  "He wasn't doing ANYTHING, you're acting WAY out of line!"  He snatched the bone out of Papyrus's hand and broke it over his femur, standing up straight as the bone's magic dissolved.  "We're going, Papyrus!"

"...Sans--"

"We're going HOME!"  He tugged on Papyrus arm, giving the other Papyrus an apologetic look.  "I'm so sorry for this, really--"

"What the fuck ever," the other Papyrus snapped, standing up and giving his double an acidic look.  "But if YOU touch ME again, I'm tearing your skull from your spine, you fuck!"  He stalked past them and out of Muffet's, going back to the weak spot that veiled their universes.  Moments later, Papyrus found himself dragged out of Muffet's restaurant by his brother, who looked more irate than he ever remembered seeing him. 

Sans was silent the whole way home--a bad sign--and shut the door EXTRA hard to show his displeasure before turning to Papyrus.  "THAT was VERY uncalled for!" Sans shouted, stomping his foot hard.  "Papyrus wasn't doing ANYTHING wrong!"

Papyrus felt his soul twitch, hating how his own name became the moniker of that asshole.  He swore to the various gods, if he ever heard Sans refer to Fucklord as 'Papy'...!

"He wants nothing GOOD for you, Sans!" he countered.  "He just sees you as a naive quickie, no different than his OWN brother, and we've BOTH seen how damaged HE is!"

Sans reared back as though Papyrus had taken a physical swing at him.  "...h...how can you SAY that!?" he shot back, his blue eyelights quivering wetly with tears.  "He's been nothing but GENTLEMANLY to me!  Except for his language, which we WILL be addressing further, but if he was gonna hurt me, he WOULD have already!  Why bother WAITING to hurt me, if he's so mean and cruel!?"

"Because that's what mean, cruel assholes DO!  They prey on gullible, innocent people and make them trust them, and then tear them down!"

"I AM NOT SOME INNOCENT LITTLE KID, PAPYRUS!  In case you haven't noticed, I'M the older brother!"  Tears streamed out of his eye sockets as he reached up and wiped at them.  "YOU'RE the one being mean!  Especially to ME!" 

Papyrus frowned, hurriedly dropping to his knees and hugging his brother to him, feeling Sans weakly struggle before leaning against him, crying into his shoulder.  "...oh, Sans, I didn't mean to make you feel bad..." he murmured, petting Sans's back.  "You're not gullible, you just like seeing the good in everyone."  He held Sans tighter.  "I'm just trying to protect you, like you protect everyone else.  You might be the Magnificent Sans, but someone's gotta look after YOU."

"......maybe."  Sans sighed, wiping his eyes.  "...but...can you please be nicer?  He's not as bad when he's not riled up."

Papyrus sighed, but nodded.  "Fine," he said, pressing his teeth to Sans's skull.  "Wanna heat up some tacos and watch some NTT?"  He smiled at the starry-eyed looked Papyrus gave him, sitting back on the couch, content.

For now.

* * *

 

Underfell Papyrus stalked through Snowdin on his rounds to make sure his traps were in working order, still sore over earlier.  How DARE that perpetually-high fucker speak to him like that?!  He hadn't done ANYTHING to that Sans!  .....okay, admittedly, he was GOING to kiss him, but Sans was going to kiss him BACK!  It wasn't as though he was pulling the little blueberry into a closet and MAULING him!

He sighed, rubbing his skull; perhaps it wasn't THAT much of a surprise.  The last time he saw ANYONE looking at HIS Sans wrong hadn't exactly been pretty.  Just overprotective brotherhood...probably a multiuniversal Papyrus thing. 

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he made his way into the forest to check the lasts of his traps, and was suddenly hurled soul-first into a tree, hitting it with a crack.  He let out a yelp and made a move to summon up some sharp bones to shrapnel out when he suddenly had a sharp bone not his own pressing into his neck.

"Easy up there, buddy," came a familiar, drawling voice.  "I just wanna talk."

Papyrus growled, feeling his rage skyrocket when the image of his other self appeared in his line of vision.  "YOU--" he snarled, choking back when the bone pressed further against his neck bones.

"Shhhhh," the other Papyrus shushed.  "Just here to talk to you, Edgy.  This is the only way you even LISTEN--when someone has you by the neck so you can't do ANYTHING but listen."  He leaned in closer, the scent of questionable smoking materials and honey invading Papyrus's senses.  The hand not holding the bone lifted and rested on Papyrus's face, making him stiffen and growl.  "I won't stay long...I just wanted to tell you one thing before I leave."

Papyrus was met with silence, and then PAIN when the other's thumb pressed violently into his scarred eye socket, making the bone crack even further.  He let out a sharp howl before the offending hand pressed against his teeth.  The other Papyrus's eyelight blazed orange, honing in like a violent fire. 

 **"IF YOU EVER TOUCH MY BROTHER AGAIN, I WILL TEAR YOUR SPINE OUT VERTEBRA BY VERTEBRA AND DUST YOUR SKULL IN MY HANDS."**  

There was a violent punch to his sternum--of ALL days to NOT wear his metal chestplate!--that knocked the fight out of him and he dropped like a rock before getting a kick to the skull.  He went face-first into the snow, which muffled his shrieks when blue bones pierced through his radii and ulnae, and tibiae and fibulae, pinning him in place.  The crunch of snow beneath shoes came closer as a hand clasped around the back of his skull and lifted it slightly.

"The bones'll disappear in a few hours," the other Papyrus said, another cigarette already between his teeth.  "It would be in your best interest to wait it out.  And when you're free, you'll STAY IN YOUR OWN GODDAMN UNIVERSE.  I don't make empty threats, Edgy.  REMEMBER THAT."  He shoved Papyrus's skull back into the snow before heading off, leaving Papyrus shaking and feeling the ever-present threat of those blue bones waiting to drain his HP if he so much as twitched.

* * *

 

Papyrus stretched as he reentered his own universe.  He almost felt bad for scarring the asshole further, since Edgy's own Sans would have to deal with it, but he pushed it out of his mind as he looked at his innocent brother sleeping on the couch.  He smiled, sitting down and resting his hand on Sans's skull, enjoying the solitude he had with his brother, and anticipated all the time he had ahead since distractions were now out of the way.


	9. (M) Underswap--King Sans, Queen Papyrus, and the Royal Bedchamber of Secrets (insert Harry Potter puns here)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, all! I recently got a full-time job (at LAST), and it doesn't give me a lot of time to write, but I'll do what I can!

To both NekoGamiSenpai98 and Sora_Tayuya, who both wanted more Underswap King Sans, here ya go!

 

 

It was difficult for everyone, getting used to the new way of things, but especially getting used to the new monarchy.  King Sans was more open to the public than Queen Toriel was, always doing his best to make everyone feel listened to and happy.  It wasn't to say he was entirely too innocent for the job, no.  Desperate uprisings were quickly quelled, punishments were harsh but fair, and he made a point to assure everyone that he was always up for suggestions for improvement.

Despite his open and honest policy, many of the people thought he may be TOO open and TOO honest, especially when he had most of the Capitol amass in front of the castle and brought his little brother out to announce that he had made him his Queen. 

Though stunned into silence, many of the Monsters didn't let it escape their notice how numb and stricken Papyrus looked, almost statue-like as their King waved and looked so happy at the announcement.  Half of them wondered if Papyrus had been given any heads-up while the other half wondered what kind of bet he lost.  After that, however, despite Papyrus being the one to go out and about to check out the affairs of the kingdom, he was incredibly scarce save for times of grievance hearings.

Those who paid the King a hearing in that way would see Papyrus sitting on the second throne, wearing a set of formal robes that would better be described as a dress, and a golden circlet on his skull.  His demeanor seemed more closed off and subdued, making those visitors wonder if something was...well, WRONG.  Papyrus didn't seem to be in any real distress, just...tired.  Fatigued.  Of life in general.  He didn't say much, and didn't react much to the hearing visits, letting his brother do all of the talking.

For those who knew Papyrus, it was distressing, concerning, even...but it wasn't their business.

And so, they remained silent, hoping and wishing Papyrus the best.

* * *

 

Papyrus thought he was taking things fairly well.  As well as someone COULD take it, being married married to his brother and holding the title of Queen and having his magic on a leash by Sans's own magic, using the magic bestowed to the King to do so through their marriage. 

He could almost see it as a betrayal.  He'd be much more insulted that Sans used their marriage to put a cap on his magic, if it wasn't so ridiculous that they were married to begin with.  But further pushing on the matter revealed the reason; Sans was terrified that Papyrus would end up leaving him too, like everyone else, and never come back.  It took the sting out of the bind on his magic, but not the dull throb he felt if he tried to do anything more than summon a few bone attacks.

He'd be much more sore about it, though, if Sans wasn't trying his hardest to make it work.  For the absurdity that it was, Sans put his all into making sure Papyrus's given title wasn't just for decoration.  Beginning with that Monster that had insulted him, Sans had made it perfectly CLEAR that their marriage wasn't a farce, and that Papyrus was the legitimate Queen of the Underground.  Any Monster that had anything foul to say about it--to their faces, at least--were dealt with harshly; even more so, Papyrus noticed, when they spoke in reference to Papyrus than to Sans.

Sans had always had a thick, heh, _skin_ when it came to criticism.  Despite his older brother's gentle soul, most anything rolled off of him with a coolness that even Papyrus couldn't help but admire.  But the MOMENT someone had so much as a rough tone when speaking to Papyrus, Sans's claws came out and so did his trident, and neither were afraid to draw blood if necessary to wring an apology from the offending Monster.

Papyrus would find it endearing if it didn't creep him out so much.  Sans being this way...it wasn't RIGHT, to him.  He began thinking that being King was going to his brother's head, but Sans didn't seem to be overindulging in anything besides their marriage.  Sans took every chance to be a good partner, be it stocking up on Papyrus's honey, compromising on Papyrus's smoking (they finally settled on a hookah so Papyrus wouldn't muss his Queenly robes with ash), and taking time out from Kingly duties to just walk around the courtyard and chat on about the latest thing, just like how they did back in Snowdin.  Papyrus enjoyed those times the most, liking the hint of normalcy it brought him.

Today was such a day.  It was a couple months into their marriage, and Papyrus felt that things were settling....well, not comfortably, per se, but not UNcomfortably.  It was a routine he could get into, doing the walk-around the courtyard, pretending he was back in his hoodie and jeans without the weight of a gold circlet around his skull.  Put a cigarette between his teeth, and he'd be pleased as punch. 

He was enjoying the walk, liking the scent of flowers that Sans had commissioned to be planted to 'beautify' up the place, and was so lost in his contentment it took him several moments to realize that Sans had stopped talking.  He brought himself out of his daydreaming and looked down at his brother, who had a thoughtful look on his face that seemed too deep for anything frivolous.  It was SERIOUS.  "...Sans?" he said tentatively.  "...is everything alright?"

Sans glanced up at him, giving him a smile.  "Yes," he replied.  "I was just thinking."  He reached out and took Papyrus's hand, squeezing it lightly.  "...Papyrus...you know I love you, right?"

Yeah, he MAY have gotten an inkling with the crown and the ring and the MARRIAGE.  "...I know that, Sans, you know I do."

"And you love ME, right?"

This wasn't going anywhere good, but there was only one right answer.  "Of course I do.  Why...are you asking me?" 

Sans was silent for a few moments, his thumb tracing the gold band around Papyrus's ring finger.  "...We are married, but we don't sleep in the same room," he said quietly.  "It gets lonely in there all alone.  The bed is too big...but we can't really fit my old bed in through the elevator, right?"  He let out a mirthless laugh.  "I feel so empty when we're apart, Papy..."  His hand trailed to his chestplate, fingers pressing into his chest.  "Especially since we haven't consummated out marriage yet."

Wow, those mental alarms were BLARING in his skull.  Papyrus's hand flinched as he fought not to pull it away, trying to keep his cool.  "...Sans...we....we CAN'T..." he murmured, the blue band of magic around his soul making it difficult to be properly disturbed by that concept when it was feeding him Sans's own emotions on the matter.  "Marriage is one thing, but...THAT.....THAT will just...change EVERYTHING."

"Why?" Sans demanded, his eyelights sparking almost petulantly.  "WHY does it have to change anything?  If you're my advisor, my husband, my bedmate--either way, you're STILL my brother, and I STILL love you!  Why does what we DO have to dictate how we FEEL?"  His free hand reached up and pressed to the front of Papyrus's robes, right over the soul.  "It would make things so much more bearable..." he murmured.  "No more discomfort when we're in different rooms...no more wondering about each others' safety when we know where we are all the time...and we'll ALWAYS be together in soul."  He smiled, his eyelights glimmering.  "You're everything I could ever want, Papy."

The sheer amount of love and affection Papyrus was feeling from Sans's binding cap almost put him on his knees; he could feel a long history of such emotions from Sans, wondering how in the world he managed to NOT see it all this time.

WOULD it change things?  Would his feelings for Sans change if they did?  He didn't know.  And it was honestly frightening not knowing, wondering 'if'.  He hated not knowing. 

But he hated having Sans sad more.

"...alright..." Papyrus murmured, squeezing Sans's hand lightly.  "Alright."

* * *

 

Papyrus let out a self-calming sigh, focusing his attention on the canopy above Sans's bed to distract himself from the fact that he was completely bareboned, and that Sans was too.  It was nothing he hadn't seen before, but the situation was definitely not.  This was happening, he thought to himself, his frame trembling slightly.  It was really happening.  He was going to do this with his brother.  His soul pounded in his rib cage, the sensation of anticipation and clashing horribly with his own anxiety on the matter.

"You can close your eye sockets if you think it'll help," Sans piped up helpfully, putting a warm, comforting hand on Papyrus's knee.  "I've got you, Papy." 

Papyrus exhaled heavily, nodding and doing just that, now left with just the sensation of another presence and the band around his soul emitting a soft, soothing aura.  It DID actually relax him, enough to make his bones stop trembling, at least, and he remained relaxed when the hand on his knee slid up his femur, skipping his pelvis, and going right to his sternum, hovering lightly over the bone to coax his soul out.  Papyrus gasped softly, shivering at the feel of his soul exposed like this; if there was one thing that squicked him to hell and back, it was having his soul exposed.  There was just too much he'd been through to feel comfortable with it out in the open.

But he could trust Sans......as much insanity as his brother had put him through, Sans would not hurt him like that.

"Your soul is so beautiful, Papy..." Sans murmured, and Papyrus could practically see the stars in his brother's eyes.  "It shimmers like honey..."  Although Papyrus recognized Sans's tone as it usually was when the older brother wanted to examine something, Papyrus felt no touch to his soul, just a curiosity.  "...I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Papyrus.  It's okay."  Sans's hands instead with to either side of his rib cage, just holding comfortingly.  "...this is new for me too.  I just want you to be happy, as happy as I am when I'm with you."

Papyrus exhaled again, relaxing down again only for his soul to pulse hard when Sans's band cap on it was removed.

He could do it, he realized.  He could teleport out of there, hide away, scream into the abyss until he felt NORMAL again--

But he didn't.

He COULDN'T.

He couldn't do that to Sans, leave his brother high and dry and alone in this ridiculously huge bed wondering why his brother left him like that.  So Papyrus remained, forcing himself to relax back and wait.

A glimmer of blue caught his attention, peeking his eye sockets open curiously.  His soul fluttered hard, seeing Sans leaning over him, the King's own powder-blue soul summoned forth and hovering mere inches away from Papyrus's orange-tinged soul.  The auras of the two already wisping out, beckoning to the other and making Papyrus's body feel like feather-light brushes were stroking his bones, although nobody was touching him.  It sent shivers down his spine, and judging from Sans's expression, he felt the same way.

The curling wisps of aura coming from Sans's soul were comforting, like reaching out to give his own soul a hug, and Papyrus almost cracked up laughing; even Sans's soul was just as open and loving as Sans himself, even in intangible ways.  The thought calmed him even more, and he relaxed further back on the bed, feeling more safe than ever, even if his soul WAS on display.

A hand touching his cheekbone brought his attention back to Sans, who was looking down at him, concerned.  "Are you alright, Papy?" he asked.  Papyrus nodded, giving Sans a little smile.

"...I'm feelin' alright, Sans," he replied.  "Whenever you're ready."  He closed his eye sockets again, relaxing back only to have his whole frame jolt when the overwhelming sensation of having another soul press to his overwhelmed his entire physical form.  He couldn't even manage to make any form of sound, too overcome with FEELING, both emotional and physical.  His hands clenched tightly into the sheets, his teeth grinding together as he tried to process everything all at once.

_Love_

_Fear_

_Papyrus_

_Doubt_

_Love_

_Responsibility_

_Caring_

_Love_

_Papyrus_

_Love_

_Papyrus_

_Love Papyrus_

_Love Papyrus_

_Love Papyrus_

_I Love Papyrus  
_

Papyrus felt tears leaking from his eye sockets, hardly able to comprehend that his brother's soul was so full of love and devotion for him, years and years' worth all at once enveloping his own soul.  It was almost too much to take in and he wanted it to stop, to settle, to keep on, to never end--

Wetness hitting his face made him pinpoint a spot of clarity, opening his eye sockets and seeing Sans above him, tears streaming down his face and arms shaking to keep himself above Papyrus, looking worse off and unable to move or project or BREATHE.  Without thinking, Papyrus reached up and curled his arms around Sans tightly, pulling his smaller brother to him tightly and then almost blacked out when their souls compressed tightly against their rib cages.

Everything went WHITE.

Every bone of Papyrus's body turned to FIRE.

And then everything went black and quiet.

It could have been minutes hours...DAYS even, before Papyrus came back to his senses, and immediately felt that everything made sense.  Sans's thoughts, emotions, reasons...most of it trickled down to love.  Love for the Underground, wanting the best for everyone, but most of all, for Papyrus.  Sans loved Papyrus in every way someone COULD love, and only wanted Papyrus with him in every way.

Papyrus just laid there quietly, petting his brother's skull lightly until Sans shifted in his hold, blinking his eye sockets open and smiling at Papyrus before leaning up and pressing light kisses over Papyrus's skull.  Papyrus sighed softly, leaning into his brother's kisses and then feeling a tingle of magic flutter from his soul down to his pelvis.  His cheekbones flushed orange, his fingers clenching into Sans's spine slightly, torn between humiliation and desire by this point.

He looked up when Sans leaned back and shifted to the other side of the bed, sitting up and looking over at his smaller brother.  "...Sans?"

Sans gave Papyrus a smile, reaching out and taking Papyrus's hand.  "It's okay, Papy," he said.  "You're not ready for that.  This was more than enough...and a lot better."  He laid back on the bed, smiling contently.

Papyrus smiled too, lying back down and squeezing Sans's hand and he closed his eye sockets.

Yes.  It WAS enough.  And he was content to have it that way.


	10. (T) Dancetale--Finding the Beat

Another request from Mango, who asked, **"Dancetale fluff perhaps? Saw the music prompt and fic and I'd love to read some dance tale wherein used as a mating ritual in a way or one in which they discover their own dance styles."**   This should be fun!

* * *

 

 

Although trapped in the Underground, nothing from the Old Ruins to the Capitol was still or silent.  The humans may have taken their freedom from the Surface, but they could not take from them what gave them joy and a freedom of expression of magic--their dancing.

Every Monster had a personal style, something that made their dance unique to THEM, that built up and focused their magic outward in an expression of themselves, be it for personal reflection, fighting, or courtship.  And discovering one's personal style was half the fun!

Sans was unique in the way that he had two distinct styles he was proficient in.  He began his dancing magic in ballet, but after the loss of his father, his science career, and his ignorance of how time and space worked, he began breakdancing to cope.  In his breakdancing, he was alone, his dance erratic and fast, keeping potential partners at bay, partners who would have once gladly danced in tandem when he was still a happy, graceful Skeleton performing ballet.

But he had no need for dance partners.  He had retired his pointe shoes for a hoodie to block out the world and dance to express his soul--erratic, turmoiled, and alone.

...well, not ENTIRELY alone.

His biggest fan was his little brother Papyrus, who, for the longest time, could not find a style of his own.

It was rare for a child over ten to not have at least found a style, and it made him an outcast with other children his age.  He pretended it didn't bother him all that much, but Sans would see his little brother gazing with longing at another Monster dancing, the wistful look on the small Skeleton's face almost breaking Sans's heart.  So he invited Papyrus to watch him dance, showed him exercises to get something of a rhythm going, and for extra measure, tried teaching Papyrus both ballet and breakdancing. 

Naturally, neither worked, and Papyrus just seemed as discouraged as ever.

"You'll find your style one day, Paps," Sans said comfortingly, hugging his little brother after a particularly frustrating practice day.  "EVERY Monster can dance...but you just have to dance like YOU."

Papyrus sniffled, hugging his brother tighter.  "But it's HARD," he muttered.  "I can't dance like me because I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"  He wiped his eye sockets.  "...how did you learn ballet, Sans?"

Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  "...it's a pretty rare style," he replied.  "But Dad went for the obscure methods pretty early on for me, and ballet just happened to be one of 'em.  But ballet isn't for YOU.  And neither is breakdancing.  YOU have a style that's meant for a partner, I just know it."

"How?"

Sans grinned, giving Papyrus a noogie.  "Because you like people so much, dum-dum!" he replied.  "C'mon, let's go home and get something to eat.  You can't perform on an empty stomach!"

"Saaaaaaaaaans, we don't HAVE stomachs!"

The two walked home quietly, Sans feeling just happy that he cheered Papyrus up.

* * *

 

It was two years later that a stroke of luck happened upon Papyrus.  While rooting through the garbage dump, Sans came across a cassette tape with Spanish text, taking it home and putting it in the cassette player for curiosity's sake.  Papyrus, who normally disliked it when Sans played music when he was trying to read instead put his book down and got out of his chair curiously, sort of staring pensively at the cassette player for a moment before he began moving his shoulders slightly to the beat of the music.  Sans watched, overjoyed, as Papyrus's arms and hips followed suit, and soon his little brother was DANCING in the living room.

Breaking out the Spanish-to-English dictionary, he found that the cassette was music for Latin dancing, and each song corresponded to a different style.  Cha-cha, flamenco, rumba, samba...and to Sans's amazement, Papyrus was good at ALL of them, although he clearly favored the cha-cha.

Sans wasn't surprised.  The cha-cha was very flamboyant, upbeat, and visually LOUD compared to the others, which described Papyrus perfectly.  And ever since Papyrus discovered his style, he never seemed to stop practicing it.  He mostly did it in secret, being a little sore from the teasing other kids gave him throughout the years, but it didn't quell his passion for it any less.

Sans loved watching his little brother dance; juxtaposed to himself, Papyrus danced out of joy, soul gleaming through his shirt as he moved, practicing his style for hours upon hours until Sans sometimes had to carry him inside for food and sleep.

After tucking Papyrus into bed one night, the younger brother surprised Sans by asking if he thought he was good enough to be a member of the Royal Dance Troupe.  It gave Sans pause; the Royal Dance Troupe was for the most elite of dancers who honed their dancing in through their combat.  Sans honestly couldn't see Papyrus's joyful passion into something combative...but the look on Papyrus's face was just something he couldn't quell down.  He told Papyrus he could practice all he wanted and try out someday, then sat back with a bedtime story.

* * *

 

Papyrus DID practice, with twice the conviction he once had, and his talent for his style only grew along with his stature.  His limbs were long and graceful, making his dance moves all the more exaggerated and appealing, and it wasn't long until he began taking his dancing publicly like everyone else.  That's when Sans noticed the trouble starting.

Papyrus's varied style was appealing to many, and during sparring practice with others who were also gunning for a spot in the Troupe, all of Papyrus's partners seemed to get...FLUSTERED when they danced with him.  It wasn't difficult to see why; Papyrus's dance style WAS pretty...intimate, despite the energy behind it...and the way he moved his hips and legs did NOT help keep the less-than-platonic inclinations from his partners at bay.

It made things difficult, in finding someone to dance with.  Platonically, anyway...or at least someone who wanted to spend time with him outside of dancing.

Sans watched as gradually, Papyrus stopped seeking out dance partners, began dancing less frequently in public, and even began talking about being in the Royal Dance Troupe less, and it broke Sans's heart.  For years, Papyrus had wanted to dance, wanted to share that experience with someone, and now it was being ruined because people liked his dancing more than they cared to get to know HIM.

Some time later, Sans was out with Papyrus on their way to sentry duty, and Sans began noticing something...odd.  Papyrus began dancing again out of nowhere, and seeking out toward other Monsters in movements that were daunting and predatory, and even the Monsters that had previously sought out Papyrus drew back at the intimidating display.

It was discerning, and Sans was understandably freaked out.  Even if Papyrus wasn't dancing towards him, he still felt intimidated by it.  On a whim, he watched Papyrus's predatory dancing and brought up the stats.

***Papyrus  
**

***Searching for a partner**

***Paso Doble**

Paso doble?  Sans had never seen that dance in Papyrus's repertoire; as aggressive as Papyrus's dancing was now, it wasn't for fighting; he normally reserved the flamenco for that.  Regardless, any Monster who was ballsy enough to try Papyrus out was quickly overpowered and out of the dance within moments, and when that happened, Papyrus lost interest and moved on.

It was worrisome to Sans.  He wondered if Papyrus had simply been lonely for too long, and was being too aggressive in finding a partner.  He tried easing Papyrus out of it, even trying to breaking out his ballet again to give Papyrus someone to dance with, but to no avail.  While he was able to keep up with Papyrus with his ballet, it always somehow ended up with him competing with Papyrus.  It wouldn't have been such a big problem if their magic had come out to play during their dancing and it turned into a dance battle where Sans ended up breakdancing and Papyrus switched to flamenco, their fighting styles shutting down their dancing until they got it into their heads that it wasn't what either of them wanted.

Sans talked it over with Grillby after the battle that made him realize his intervention wasn't working.  Even though the Flame Monster had all but retired his dancing for his restaurant, Grillby knew more about most dance styles than anyone else Sans knew. 

"Explain to me his dancing," Grillby asked, handing Sans a bottle of ketchup.  Sans swigged it back, tugging his hood up in his anxious habit.

"...It's...intimidating," he replied.  "Predatory.  A tall, proud strut that challenges anyone who catches his eyelight...and it EASILY overpowers everyone else's dancing.  If he used it to fight...jeeze, I dunno..."  He rubbed his nasal bone.  "It's called a paso doble..."

"Ohhh, a paso doble," Grillby said, nodding.  "I see."  A hint of a smile flickered over his face.  "Sans, it's nothing to concern yourself with.  And it's no wonder Papyrus doesn't respond to YOUR dancing with it.  It's a courtship dance."

Sans sputtered on his ketchup.  "A WHAT!?" he wheezed, taking the offered napkin from Grillby, wiping his mandible clean.  "A what?"  
  
"A courtship dance.  It's modeled after bullfighting, where the leader of the dance is the matador, doing a dance of 'battle' with the bull.  That's all there is, Sans.  He's a bullfighter looking for a proper challenge.  A partner."  He bit back a laugh.  "Your little brother is all grown up and looking for a forever dance partner."

Sans groaned, his face turning blue as he tugged his hood down over his face.  "Oh GODS, and I tried to CHALLENGE his paso doble--!" he wailed.  "And with BALLET!"

Grillby snorted.  "A combination set up for failure," he remarked.  "Just let him dance and get it out of his system.  Worst-case scenario is he doesn't find anyone who can match his moves."

"And the BEST case scenario?"

"Invest in sound-proofing your walls."

"GRILLBY!"

* * *

 

 

_It's not explicitly mentioned, but I ship Sans and Grillby in this one. And Grillby is, unsurprisingly, a fire-poi dancer and would be a good match for Sans, as in[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ccMoo5hTM3U).  (First half for courtship, second for fighting)_


End file.
